Not Just Another Year
by LoveInChains
Summary: "If only Scott hadn't gone out that night." A retelling of Teen Wolf, slight OOC, slight AU, better summary inside. Rated T for language.
1. Introduction

Introduction

Hello all! The slacker that is still writing The Chase is back with something completely different. I love dreaming of sexy scenes with Tyler Hoechlin and all but I decided to do this. This is an extreme rewrite of Teen Wolf. I'm inserting second season characters into the first season, I'm cutting some parts of episodes, and I'm toning down every personality in this show. I love Teen Wolf, with all my heart, but everyone in this show is so... loud! I mean, Jackson. There's rich jocks that hate competition and then there's Jackson who hates everything unreasonably. So I'm toning him down. Lydia, I'm making her relatively bitchy but not so bitchy that she doesn't even know who Stiles is. I'm keeping Stiles the same, don't worry about that. He's so sarcastic and funny. Derek... Oh Derek, I love you. But I'm going to make you a little more vulnerable and wounded and less "killy everything I see". And I'm pretty much going to scrap all dialogue. Some parts I'll keep because I think that they're witty and charming, other than that... bye bye. I might keep this going into Season Two since it's almost over *SOB* but who knows. Depends on the response I get for this. Please give this a shot before you think that I'm totally crapping all over the idea of Teen Wolf, I'm just trying to make the characters more believable and more relateable. I love Scott, he's so adorable, so I'm giving him some more subtle character traits as I am with everyone. The only person who has a story in this show, is Derek... and Matt. I don't really like Matt. He creeped me out. I guess Jackson has a bit of a story, being adopted and all, but other than that, we're just given what the dialogue... gives! And don't worry, I'm not going to be making random people fall in love or anything, I'm going to follow the basic plotline and add things along the way.

I HOPE YOU GIVE THIS A CHANCE. MOMMA LOVES YOU.


	2. Chapter One

It was late that night, the night that everything changed. The air was a little colder, the sounds of the night even louder, and there was a distinct scent in the air to those who knew what the smell was. Death. If only young Scott McCall didn't go out that night, if only his best friend wasn't an adderall addicted nut job, if only Scott had stayed home like he planned; to get a good nights rest before the first day of school. Perhaps if he had stayed home he would've lived through a normal Sophomore year. Too bad he'd never know what his life could've been like.

Again, it was late. Around 11 PM to be exact, and Scott was lacing up his lacrosse net for the first practice of the season the following day. Once he finished up the last few laces he practiced maneuvering his lacrosse ball in it. Scott had always been a little clumsy so he thought the little extra practice before the season started wouldn't hurt. With mediocre skill he lofted the ball a bit and practiced shooting it into his make-shift goal he made out of an old sheet and two bats that he expertly nailed to the ground. His mother wasn't particularly happy about the damage to their house but she let it slide. Scott had been going through some bad times ever since his father walked out on them. Just then that's exactly what Scott was thinking about and he accidentally knocked over his lamp with a poorly aimed shot. He cringed when the already battered lamp hit the floor. Nothing broke, thank God, but he was still waiting for his mother to bellow from down below.

"SCOTT. YOU BETTER BE PREPARED TO PAY FOR WHATEVER YOU JUST BROKE." She yelled. That was a relief since he didn't break anything.

Scott smiled slightly and yelled back, "I am! Don't worry!"

That's when Scott decided it was a good time to get ready for bed. He walked into his tiny green tiled bathroom, he squeezed some toothpaste, nearly empty, onto his tooth brush and began brushing his teeth. That was one thing he never had a problem with. Never had a cavity, never needed braces. Not that his mom good afford them on a nurses salary. Once he was done he walked back into his room and started doing some pull-ups on the metal two-by-four he bolted to his door frame. While doing those he thought he heard something, he dropped to the floor and looked out the window. Nothing out of the ordinary there. With his head still out the window he didn't really expect his mother to peak her head into his doorway to tell him goodnight. He bumped his head against the window, shrugged it off, and said goodnight to his mom. After she was out of his sights he rubbed the back of his head where the wood of the window came into contact with it. It was only moderately painful but it was sure to leave a bump. Ignoring the throbbing in his head he stripped off the tank he had been wearing, shuffled out of his pants, and dove into his messy bed. The bed smelled like teen sweat and dirty clothes, the sure sign that it needed to be washed. Scott never minded it though. It smelled like him after a good hard lacrosse practice with Stiles, Jackson, Isaac, and Danny. Just meant he was working hard. Content with his situation he tucked his legs underneath the thin sheet that covered his bed and he hugged his pillow. Shortly after he drifted off to sleep.

It wasn't until 1 AM that Scott's life was forever changed. A strange sound near his window forced him awake. He sat there for a few seconds to see if it was just his imagination but the noise remained consistent. Next to his bed was his lacrosse stick which could make due as a weapon for a burglar. He reached out to it slowly and clasped his tan hand around it. The noise next to his window was getting louder. Either the burglar was stupid or he was getting closer and he was stupid. Carefully Scott peeled back his blanket and swung his legs over the right side of the bed. Even more carefully he pressed his back against the wall next to his window and waited for the perpetrator to come into view so he could give them a good wallop. After a minute or so of the noise continuing and there being no one in view he leaned down to look out it. Someone was dangling on the tree outside his window! He opened his window wide to get a closer look. Of course it would be his best friend Stiles hanging upside down like a sloth throwing acorns at the side of Scott's house. Scott groaned at his friend.

"What do you think you're doing?" He whispered loudly, "You'll wake my mom!"

An acorn came through the window and connected with Scott's forehead, "This is more important than getting busted by your mom, and you weren't answering your phone!" He replied not so quietly.

"Stiles! Shush! I'll meet you downstairs!" Scott tried to reason with his loud friend. Said friend gave Scott a thumbs up and began to descend from the tree. Quickly, but quietly, Scott tiptoed out of his room and down the stairs. Once he reached the front door he didn't even have to open it. Stiles had picked the lock. Even though Stiles' dad was a cop he had the making of a criminal. Scaring teenage boys in the middle of the night and trying to gain access to their room VIA tree, picking locks, and the drugs. Always the drugs. He was still the goofy, shaggy, subtly brilliant kid Scott had grown to love and be annoyed by. But when they're your best friend, what can you do, "You couldn't wait for me to open the door?" Scott whispered.

"Why wait for what you can pick?" Which made barely any sense, "Why are you carrying your lacrosse stick like a club?" Stiles asked his lacrosse-stick-wielding friend with a skeptical look.

Funny thing was Scott completely forgot about it, "Whatever you're trying to convince me to do, a weapon is probably advised." Scott admitted with the slightest twinge of sarcasm. It was hard not to be sarcastic when hanging around Stiles.

At what Scott said, Stiles laughed, "You're right this time around!"

'Wait, did I hear him right?' Scott thought to himself, aloud he said, "What the hell did you do now."

Stiles rolled his lips into his mouth like he always did when he was super excited about something, "I was listening into my dad's phone call, because all the good ones happen after midnight," He paused to hold up his hands, "trufax, when I heard something amazing." He said with a bit of a bounce. The kid was bouncing his heels?

Even Scott had to admit he was slightly interested, "What? What'd you hear?" He asked with a purposely dulled excitement. If your excitement rivaled Stiles' in any was he would automatically double it. He was sort of crazy like that which was why the two complimented each other so well.

"They heard some screaming out in the middle of the woods. Like, chainsaw massacre style. They called nearly every cop in the county to "scan the woods". Wouldn't it be awesome if we found like, Jeffrey Dahmer's dump site or something?"

"Stiles, what is wrong with you?" Scott sort of yelled at his friend in an exasperated tone, "And who's Jeffrey Dahmer?" He finished.

At that, Stiles groaned, "Seriously, dude? Take Criminology next year. Wait, enough of this!" He suddenly changed the topic, not a rare occurrence, "They could've already found whatever it is they're looking for! Let's go!" He exclaimed, grabbing Scott's arm and pulling him out the door. Ignoring the fact that Scott was only wearing a pair of boxers.

"Let me go put some clothes on first! Geez Stiles!" Scott whispered loudly to his pushy friend just before bounding up the stairs as quietly and as quickly as he possibly could. Why didn't Scott just ignore Stiles and try to go back to bed? Who knows. Perhaps he was just so used to going along with his neurotic friend that he barely ever questioned it anymore when Stiles wanted to do something dangerous. Once Scott was in his room his pulled on a pair of baggy washed jeans, a black White Stripes tee, and a read zip up hoodie. He was about to head out when he spied his inhaler sitting on his desk, better safe than sorry right? Scott swiped his inhaler, headed out the door, listened for his mothers light snoring, and returned to the first floor with his asthmatic safety blanket. As soon as his foot hit the bottom step he was promptly yanked out the door and Stiles was starting to drag him across the lawn, "Dude! If there's some "Jeffrey Dahmer" or whoever out there I'm locking the door!" Scott informed his impulsive, impatient, friend. Once Scott found the key hidden under a lose brick in the patio he locked the door, shoved the key in his pocket, and the two were on their way.

Luckily for Scott his dad really didn't like living in the hustle and bustle of the town so they lived in a rickety old house out in the middle of nowhere... right next to the massive amount of woods that seemed to go on for miles. Probably did, for all the boys knew. Stiles told Scott that the scream came from over by the old Hale House that burned down years ago but when they checked it out they found nothing out of the ordinary. So they hopped into Stiles' junk of a jeep and headed into the woods. They didn't want to venture in too far and take the chance that a cop would see them and haul their miserable asses down to the station. Quietly they got out of the jeep and made their way into the deeper parts of the woods. Nothing seemed terribly out of the ordinary but every now and then they'd catch a glimpse of a trooper or something and they had to dive into a bush. Well, Stiles always dove into the bush. Scott just hid behind trees... he was relatively lanky. But every time Scott didn't dive into a bush Stiles would make a huge deal about it. Eventually, Scott decided it was better for him to hide in the bush. After their seventh bush dive they heard a ranger relatively close to them speak into their radio.

"We can't find the other half. Let's call it a night. We'll resume when it's light out." He then walked off into the distance, the two boys assumed he was leaving so they immediately ran out.

While Scott was busy picking leaves, twigs, and bugs out of his black hair, Stiles said, "I think they found a body."

Scott stopped to look at his friend with wide eyes, "Like... a human body?" He asked while trying to swallow the nervous lump in his throat.

"No, Scott, a body of water. Yes, a human body, dumb ass!" Stiles said with a smack to the back of Scott's head, "Now, stop asking stupid questions and let's find the other half of the body... wonder which half we're looking for..." He mumbled to himself as the two continued to go deeper and deeper into the woods. The woods wasn't easy to maneuver but the boys liked playing in there as kids with their friends Jackson and Danny, so it was a little bit easier for them.

That reminded Scott, "Shouldn't we tell Jackson about this? You know he hates it when we do things without him." He informed his friend who was practically in a trance trying to find the stupid body. Scott never understood what was going on in that kids head. But he was always driven no matter how menial the task wass.

"Nah, he wouldn't get here in time." Stiles said with a indifferent swat of the hand, "Besides, this is pretty cool, we're like in our own buddy cop comedy, staking out crime scenes and all." He continued with that same unnatural drive.

"Stiles! Someone was killed here tonight, this isn't a comedy, it's a horror story! Now that I think about it, what if the murderer is still out here and we're seconds away from being turned into sushi?!" Scott said who was finally starting to freak out. His heart was starting to race, he couldn't breathe all too well, and his palms were getting real sweaty. His hand dove into his pocket for his inhaler. Quickly he shook it, placed the mouthpiece in his mouth, pressed the button, and suddenly his entire body loosened up. Scott exhaled and ran to catch up with his friend.

Stiles turned around, "You know, I didn't think about that." He promptly shoved Scott backwards, "Why didn't you keep your lacrosse stick? Would've made a great weapon!" He paused for a second, "You know, you're getting real bad at being my conscious. I think I should fire you."

"Yeah, and then who'd help you in English? And Math, and Spanish..." Scott drawled on with a slight smile, but he still was a bit worried about the whole murderous lunatic running around the woods. Face it, Scott was always worried about something. Grades, lacrosse practice, girls, you name it. He didn't need the homicidal maniac to top it all off.

"Fine, I get it, you're not fired. Just shut up and help me find this body!" Stiles yelled moderately loud. Scott shook his head but he kept quiet as they scaled the side of a hill. They reach the top and they saw a guy standing over something, looking at it... almost mourning it. They struggled a bit but eventually they got to standing, "Scott, who is that?" Stiles whispered. Scott looked the guy over. He definitely seemed familiar. Like they knew each other when they were little or something.

Just then the guy looked up at the two teenagers staring at him, "Shit..." Scott muttered, "We probably look real suspicious."

Stiles smacked him again, "We look suspicious? He's the one just standing there like a total freak!" He paused to cup his hands around his mouth, "Hey, buddy, whatcha doing just standing there?" He yelled.

"I know that's not my idiot son I hear!" Someone yelled behind them. They both turned and when they turned back, the guy was gone. Scott quickly dove into a bush since he was still in the clear. In a matter of minutes Sheriff Stilinski was over the hill and looked like he wanted to cuff his son. And not the arresting sort of "cuffing", like he wanted to deck him in the face, "Hello, Stiles. Out for a midnight walk?" He said to his son with a bitterness.

In the bush Scott hoped that Stiles wouldn't rat him out, he was practically praying, "Yeah, the moon is really... refreshing this time of night." Stiles said, his voice completely coloured by nervousness. A rare occurrence normally but whenever his father was involved that goofy kid was nothing shy of... shy.

"The fact that you're out here half an hour after I tell dispatch to get the entire county police force out here is not coincidental Stiles. Do you listen into all of my phone calls?" The sheriff asked his son with a head slap to the back of the head. Guess it was a genetic habit.

At that Stiles stuttered a bit, "Pfft, n-no!" He laughed nervously as he scratched the back of his head, "Not the boring ones...?" Of course his dad wasn't too happy about that. He got another head slap because of it.

The sheriff then grabbed his son by the scruff of his shirt, "Where's your usual partners in crime? Jackson? Scott? They've got to be around here somewhere." He said while scanning the area with his flashlight, "SCOTT, JACKSON, YOU OUT THERE?" He called.

With his dads hand grasping at his shirt, Stiles had a hard time talking. But as usual, he managed it, "They're... at home! Getting a... good nights sleep before... the first day of school...!" He struggled to say.

"Which is exactly where you should be!" His dad said, finally letting him go only to kick him in the direction of his car, "Now, I'm going to take you to your car, you're going to go home, go to bed, and I'll think about not killing you in your sleep!"

After more complaining from Stiles and more arguing on both their parts the two left, leaving Scott all alone in the darkness of the Beacon Hills Preserve. Now that Stiles' dad was gone Scott decided to check out whatever that one guy had been looking at. Sure, he was alone now and venturing around in the woods with no one to help "distract" or "take down" a killer wasn't exactly the smartest idea but it was only 40 feet away and he was really curious. First, he took a dose of his inhaler, then he slowly untangled himself from the bush he had made his temporary home. Then he moved even slower towards the spot the guy was staring at. Hesitantly he looked around to make sure that that guy was gone. For some reason that Scott couldn't exactly put his finger on he was extremely on edge. Could be the mysterious noises, the fact that there was a murderer sneaking around in the woods, or it could be the asthma. Who knew. As Scott got closer and closer to the spot that edgy feeling got worse and worse. Once he was only five feet from it, he finally saw what the guy was looking at. There was the top half of a woman's body bleeding out all over the leaves around her. Completely taken surprise by this Scott fell down and dropped his inhaler. He backed up into a tree and his hand went into his pocket to grab for the thing that he just dropped. When there was no inhaler to grab he frantically searched for it all around him. That is, until his eyes connected with two glaring red eyes staring at him from off into the distance at the head of a large animals body... freakishly so. There was no time for the inhaler, Scott scrambled to his feet as fast as he could and ran. He ran as fast as his lanky body was able to go. Which wasn't fast enough. Something grabbed at his ankles and he was taken down face first in the dirt. There was some growling, and a sharp pain in Scott's right side. It was so painful that he screamed, he screamed for all that he was worth. He felt something dig into his neck, he felt the blood trickle down the side of his jugular until it fell to the ground, he felt nothing but pure agony as he felt something dig into his legs, his arms, his head. Then, it was gone. He turned to see that one guy right in front of him, sweat on his brow and blood on his face.

"Run! Get the hell up and run!" He yelled, grabbing for Scott's arm as he did. Scott finally got his footing and with one shove he ran towards, what he thought was, the road. Several times along the way he looked back to see if he was being chased. He wasn't. And several times he tripped over sticks no thicker than his pinky. It was pathetic but he could practically feel nothing but pain in every part of his existence. There was blood dripping in his eyes and he was pretty sure that there was a hole in his side the size of a basketball. Finally after running for several minutes Scott made it to the road. As soon as his foot hit asphalt he was nearly run over by some car, he wasn't paying attention to the make or the model. Since he was, literally, out of the woods he decided to gauge the damage. He looked down, his shirt as well as his sweater were in shreds. He moved some of the pieces left behind out of the way of his side to see a gruesome bite mark that was staining one of his only pairs of jeans with waterfalls of blood. He wasn't quite sure what to do. The pain was subsiding, the adrenaline was kicking in. With that last occurrence, Scott hobbled down the road, blood dripping with every step. And, of course, it started to rain.

It was nearly two AM when Scott made it back to his house where he promptly went up to his room, after locking the front door. Once he was safely within his own domain the adrenaline seeped from his system and he felt the pain once more. He stumbled into his bathroom to the best of his ability and fell into the bathtub. He carefully peeled all of his clothes off, closed the shower curtain, and ran the shower to wash all of the blood away. Scott had no idea how extensive his injuries were until he saw the water run a deep scarlet all the way down to the drain. He had had injuries from lacrosse where the water was a little bit red but never red enough to actually scare him. This was nothing like those other times. The water was pure red, no mistaking it. Once the water was finally running clear he stumbled out of the bathtub and dried himself off to the best of his ability. When he was finally mostly dry he stumbled back into his room to grab his handy first aid kit. With barely one hand to work with Scott managed to wrap gauze all around his middle, he covered some bite marks on his neck, arms and legs, and carefully bound a few of his fingers and toes together since he was sure he broke a couple. All of this before the first practice of the season. Scott knew he probably wasn't going to make first line, especially not with those injuries. Still. He skulked off to bed with the false hope that everything would be okay in the end. Too bad he had no idea that he couldn't have been more wrong.

Scott McCall woke up the next day in severe pain. The pain had been dulled slightly but not enough to make a significant difference. As the poor battered kid tried to get up out of his bed he groaned when his body resisted. He was practically a block of lead with two sore stumps for legs. With a grueling effort he managed to roll out of his bed and onto the floor, causing him to grunt in pain. He looked to his wounded side to see that the bandages were completely crimson and he swore silently to himself. Carefully he forced himself to stand and he stumbled into his bathroom once more. Quickly he changed his bandages and was able to get a good look and some of the more minor injuries that had looked worse the night prior. When he looked at them then they just looked like injuries he could've received at work. Better than looking like he had been assaulted by whatever it was that previous night... looked like a bear to Scott. At least his mother wouldn't notice anything or keep him from lacrosse try-outs later that day. So he decided to wrap the gaping wound in his side and then he was going to head off to school. After he downed a few vicodin of course. He'd never admitted it but that was the one thing Scott liked about severe lacrosse injuries, you were always assured a bottle of vicodin or something similar. 'Thank you broken leg.' He thought to himself as he dry-swallowed three vicodin. Normally he only would've taken one but he didn't want to take the chance that he'd get caught with drugs that day. With the drugs making their way down his esophagus, Scott decided to figure out what he was going to wear. Jeans, a must, long sleeved white shirt, a necessity, and a blue tee on top to piece together the whole ensemble. He remembered how cold it was the night prior and he grabbed hit ratty, but trusty, brown zip-up sweater. Not the most extravagant outfit but it's one he knew that he looked good in and wouldn't freeze in. Content with how he looked and the fact that the pain throughout him was diminished to a dull roar he decided to head downstairs. In a more stylish fashion he rode the banister all the way down. He nearly ran into the front door that was, literally, five feet in front of the bottom of the stairs, hooray for crappy reflexes. Scott recovered from his latest blunder and headed towards the fridge to grab a quick bite to eat. Too bad the universe had other plans for him. Waiting for him at the kitchen table was his mother with a fiesta platter of sausage, eggs, and pancakes. Scott truly loved his mom with all his heart. No matter their financial problems she never ceased with the little things like a nice healthy breakfast on the first day of school.

With a smile on his face he walked over to his mother and wrapped his arms around her in a loving embrace, "You didn't have to." Scott informed her.

His mom ruffled his shaggy black hair, "But I wanted to. You need the perfect breakfast to have a perfect practice today." She said as she pulled away, "No more talking, eat your food. I have an early shift today so you better be out of here before I am." His mom said, only slightly joking. Scott laughed, sat down, and enjoyed his breakfast. Being the age and size that he was the food was downed in around 15 minutes. He poured himself a glass of orange juice, downed that, kissed his mom of the cheek, and grabbed his helmet and backpack.

"Thanks! I'll call you after I make first line!" He said cheerfully before he was out the door and on his bike heading towards Beacon Hills High School. The school wasn't too far from his house when he was on his bike. And great thing about the bike ride is if you ever wanted a wind swept look all you had to do was ride without a helmet with a wet head of hair. Still, there Scott was, with a helmet, pedaling towards the start of his Sophomore year with absolutely no idea for what he was heading into. It took him twenty minutes but he was finally in the schools parking lot, heading straight for the bicycle rack. He padlocked his bike to it and was about ready to head towards to school when something hit the back of his legs. He turned, a silver Porsche door was the assailant in this situation. A silver Porsche door wielded by one of Scott's good friends and fellow lacrosse teammates, Jackson Whittemore.

The rich teen exited his car with that cocky grin he always wore, "Watch it, McCall. I don't know if you could afford the paint if you scratched it." Jackson joked as he clasped his friends shoulder. Scott never did like the way that Jackson joked sometimes, it was derogatory and made him feel the pains of his financial situation ever since his dad left. Not that he'd ever admit it. The two had been friends for years, he was one of Scott's only friends. He was the one who got him interested in lacrosse, taught him, all that stuff. To that, he was grateful. But every friendship comes at a price. Like his relationship with Stiles, usually that just cost him a good nights sleep. Kind of like the previous night when he was wrecked by a vicious animal.

Of in the distance, someone yelled, "Hey, Jackson! Check this out!" Of course Jackson was immediately brought to whoevers attention.

"Guess I'll just see you at practice, I'll try not to kick your butt too bad!" He said with a laugh and a punch to Scott's right side. Scott held in the pain for as long as he could before he doubled over, gasping for breath. He lifted up his shirt a bit to look at the bandage... it was starting to seep through. Damn blood. Carefully he peeled back the gauze to see that it wasn't all that bad, just gross blood everywhere.

"Woah! Where did you get that?"

Scott looked up to see Stiles gawking at his open wound, "Oh... got it last night. In the woods." He said, only slightly trying to guilt trip his best friend. To no avail.

"Wait, what?! I missed you getting mauled?" Stiles whined, "I miss all the good stuff! What was it that got you?" He asked as the two started to walk towards their first class. Biology.

Of course he was interested in that and not his well being, "It looked like a bear. But I wasn't sure, I was just trying to get away from the thing." Scott explained, that's when he remembered something, "Oh, and I found the other half of the body. We were looking for the top half."

At that, Stiles' jaw dropped to the ground, "I seriously miss out on everything! And this was my adventure!" He grumbled, throwing a mini tantrum as they reached the top step before they entered the school, "Wait," He said, stopping Scott, "did you see her boobs?"

"Stiles! She was dead! Besides, I was mostly worried about the animal that was ripping at my ankles!" Scott said with a shove and a rolls of his eyes. Ignoring Stiles' complaints the two headed through the front doors and into the chaos of their High School.

After a few seconds of babbling from Stiles he stopped Scott again, "If the thing was the size of a bear like you said... how did you get away? I mean, no offense, I love you, but you can't take down a full grown bear no matter how much adrenaline was pulsing through you." He asked, and slightly insulted.

Scott thought back to the previous night, 'How did I get away?' He thought, 'Didn't that guy come back...?' "That guy that was staring at the body came back and distracted the thing or something." Scott explained.

Again, Stiles' jaw dropped, "He was staring at the BODY? That wasn't 50 feet in front of us! MAN. IF ONLY MY DAD WASN'T DOING HIS JOB I WOULD'VE SEEN HALF A DEAD BODY!" He yelled in the middle of the hallway. Getting strange and scared looks from everyone around us. Scott tried to make it look like Stiles wasn't talking to him but Stiles just kept yammering. Finally, Scott just grabbed his arm.

"Come on, let's get to class." He muttered, dragging a still rambling Stiles along behind him. This year they had nearly every single class together, much to their pleasure. Some they had with Jackson as well, Danny too. They even had one with Isaac. All in all, should be a good year. Except that they now had Harris for a Chemistry teacher. Everyone in the grades above them had warned them to Harris's hatred towards kids. They were not looking forward to that. Eventually they Scott managed to drag his friend to their homeroom. Once in they took to the back, as per usual, so they could talk and have a less likely chance to get caught. About just as they sat down in their seats the bell rang and the start of their Sophomore year officially... started!

"I know that there's rumours about a dead body being found out in Beacon Hills Preserve, but the police have denied that the body was anything human. So you can give your full attention to the syllabus on your desks." A couple of students groaned at what their latest English teacher said, not Scott. He really wanted to do well this year. The past few years his grades suffered due to his parents divorce and the inevitable abandonment by his father. But now it was time for him to turn it all around. While he was sitting at his desk, carefully analyzing every sentence, some shrill sound caused his brain to vibrate in his skull. Frantically he looked around to find the source and to see who was causing it. No matter who he looked at he couldn't find the source.

'Seriously, is no one else hearing that?' Scott thought as he continued to scan the room. Finally, his eyes settled on someone outside... outside... windows shut... and twenty feet away from said shut window.

He heard the person talk, he assumed it was a girl by the length of her hair and what she was wearing, "Seriously, mom? You just dropped me off and you're already calling me?" She stopped talking so her mom could respond, Scott assumed, "Yes, I know. But I've done this a thousand times, I think I've got it down pact by now." She said as she sifted through her bag, "No way did I forget a pen! Honestly Allison..." She mumbled to herself, "What? Nothing mom. I've got to go, I'll call you later." "Allison" said as she hung up and the guidance counselor approached her. He shook her hand and led her towards the front doors.

"We're glad to have you, Ms. Argent. We hope that you'll stay here for the remainder of your High School career." The counselor said to the girl as they approached her class.

The girl laughed slightly, "We'll try. My dad's job takes him everywhere though, so no promises."

Then... the door to Stiles' and Scott's class opened and the most gorgeous girl that Scott had ever seen came into his graces. She had the most beautiful waist length curly chocolate brown hair and honey coloured eyes. Her skin was very pale yet flushed in all the right places. It pained Scott to look at her... yet it pained him even more to look away, "Everyone, this is Allison Argent. I hope you'll all make her feel welcome." The counselor informed the class before bowing out to attend to other things. Allison shyly tucked a locke of hair behind her ear. That's when Scott remembered her saying something about not having a pen. As his dream girl approached the seat behind him he quickly grabbed his spare pen. Once Allison sat down he turned and handed her the pen. Hesitantly she took it from him, but in the end she smiled.

"Thanks." She whispered, smiling even wider, Scott couldn't help but smile in return. The strange incident of his super hearing totally forgotten by that point.

"Not a problem." He replied, "I'm Scott by the way."

Allison tucked another piece of hair behind her ear, "Allison." And with that, Scott was completely sold. He wanted to be with that girl.


End file.
